Path of Shadows
by Chewbacon
Summary: Chapter one of an ongoing series. The Legion's return nears, and a Kirin'Tor Blood Elf Mage named Akrast is desperate for power to fight the demons that destroyed his home. When a mysterious offer is made from an unexpected source, Akrast will have to search out how far he is willing to go to fight the Legion. Will he forsake the arcane and take the path of shadows?
Chapter 1: A Dark Offer

Akrast recalled the unnatural fel fire burning in the eyes of the captured night elf in the dungeon of the Violet Citadel and shuddered. The mad prisoner scornfully laughing as bolt after bolt of arcane energy splashed harmlessly over him, body arching and twisting like a puppet.

The tests were conclusive, the Legion was returning.

Akrast recognized the pall of uneasy fear that had spread throughout Dalaran. Just like the spectre of Arthas Menethil haunted the humans, so did the Legion haunt the Blood Elves, and especially Akrast. The Isle of Quel'Danas had been his home and the Legion had drenched it in unholy green flame the last time they'd entered Azeroth, killing almost everyone he knew. He'd been powerless then and he had learned much since, but as he saw today. Not even the might of the arcane masters of the Kirin Tor was enough.

All that he'd trained for, all the tests, the studying, the knowledge. It was all useless against the might of Legion. They were coming, and just like Quel'Danas, they were all going to burn.

Akrast grunted and tipped back a second ale, feeling the haze around his head grow stronger. He glanced at the Drakosh at the bar and raised the mug in a mock salute. The old orc's lip curled and he turned away.

Akrast felt a steady glow of tightly focused arcane power and his eyes snapped to the entrance of the tavern and saw Nisti enter the Filthy Animal.

Her glittering emerald eyes under a loose mop of dark brown hair focused on him and narrowed. Akrast's oldest friend and only other survivor of his village came over and sat across from him. "The tests?"

"Take a guess," Akrast said, wiping his lips.

Nisti cursed softly and then looked around. "We need the Forsaken. They're alchemy could be of use."

"The Kirin'Tor are under Jaina's thumb now, and by proxy, King Wrynn's. His influence grows on her every year. There is no more Horde in Dalaran, just Drakosh."

"And us," Nisti said. "It's waste. The Legion is coming. We should be pooling our resources, consolidating knowledge and growing our power. Where did they capture the corrupted night elf?"

"Does it matter? He's shown we don't have the power to fight the Legion. I don't have the power, and that's the only reason I joined," Akrast said bitterly.

"So you're going to piss everything away in here, dreaming of the glory days of the Wrath campaign?" Nisti said, lip curling. "Your complacence is disgusting."

Akrast's cheeks burned. She was right, but what could he do, what could any of them do against the approaching storm?

A sudden growl from Drakosh made them turn.

A human woman stood at the door of the Filthy Animal. She wore deep violet robes trimmed with gold, the standard uniform of the Kirin'Tor. Her hair was blonde and streaked with grey, and her pale blue eyes were a contrast to her dark skin. Her right hand gripped a gnarled oak staff topped with a lifeless black crystal.

"Akrast, Nisti, may I join you?" The woman said, her voice flat and hard.

"Up to him," Akrast said and jerked his thumb at Drakosh.

The orc narrowed his eyes. "You have gold?"

"Yes."

"Leave your staff at the door then," Drakosh said.

"As you wish." The woman leaned the staff by the door, crossed the empty common room and pulled up a chair next to Akrast and Nisti.

Akrast's heart beat hard in his ears. Here was someone part of the very problem affecting their ability to fight the Legion, a human, servant of King Wrynn. "What do you want?" He said.

"The same as you."

"I doubt that," Nisti said, her arms folded across her chest, the blood elf glow of her eyes smouldering like coals.

"Speak quickly," Akrast said. "In here we aren't just Kirin'Tor, but Horde as well."

The woman placed her elbows on the table and folded her arms, leaning in. "To defeat the Legion, other sources of power must be acquired. The test today is on every mage's mind, but I'm the only one with a solution."

Akrast shared a look with Nisti. "Go on."

"Northrend is home many different powers."

"Scourge magic doesn't work," Nisti said. "It was tried."

"I'm not talking about that."

"What then?" Akrast said.

"Shadow."

Akrast licked his lips. "Warlock power."

"Hardly." The woman said. "What I'm talking about is far more subtle if used correctly, if their whispers can be resisted."

"Whispers," Nisti said.

"The Old Gods," Akrast said, heart racing. He shook his head. "They corrupt as much as the demons do. That is the province of priests, not mages, you're insane."

"There are ways around their dark influence."

Nisti was shaking her head. "You're mad. Whoever you are."

"I am Trilaya and I also suffered much at the hands of the Legion."

"How?"

Trilaya's hard face rippled and she bared her teeth. "I grew up in Nethergarde Keep under the shadow of the Dark Portal."

Akrast saw honesty and pain in Trilaya's face, a wound similar to his and Nisti's. The details of what happened to her didn't matter; she'd suffered like them and a hatred of the Legion bound them together. "What ways are there?"

"Hold on," Nisti said. "Akrast may fall for your cute story, but it's not enough for me. Maybe you're trying to trick us and have the last of the Horde Blood Elves in the Kirin'Tor exiled. You could be an Alliance spy."

"If the Alliance cared about two Blood Elf Mages languishing in Dalaran while the rest of the Horde left, and wanted you gone; you would be. You're barely a blip for them."

Trilaya reached inside her robes and pulled out a bound scroll. "Proof of what I say, use this spell on the Night Elf and watch him crumble like dust. This is the power I can offer you. Try it for yourself. Let this speak for the truth of my claims."

Neither he or Nisti took the scroll, but Akrast felt a surge of excitement in his chest at the prospect of hurting the Legion, of being able to fight back. "What do you need us for?"

"I seek an artifact, a lost remnant of the Black Empire."

"The Black what?" Nisti said.

Trilaya focused her eyes on Akrast. "There is a portal stone in the vaults of the Violet Citadel and I don't have the strength to both break in and cast the spell. I need your arcane energy."

"What artifact?" Akrast said.

"Use the scroll and if you decide to agree, I will find you."

Trilaya rose and shadowy wisps like smoke began to drift up from her skin. Trilaya walked quickly towards the shadowed corner of the inn and she vanished from sight, disappearing into the shadows. Akrast's jaw hung open, he glanced at her staff by the door, but it too was gone. "What in Kael'Thas's name was that?"

Nisti let out a long breath and raised a hand. "Drakosh, three ales. Right now."

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End file.
